


Bedtime Stories

by krazykitkat



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazykitkat/pseuds/krazykitkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just how much does the Washington Post cover?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: Bedtime Stories  
> AUTHOR: Kat/krazykitkat  
> RATING: NC-17 (sex scene)  
> DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its characters are the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and NBC. No Copyright Infringement is intended. I will put them back slightly disheveled.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES: More than a little nervous as this is my first outright smut piece. This story has been a long time in the making. I started it six months ago, when that wonderful spread of Allison Janney was released in MORE magazine. Like many people I saw *that* photo and the wheels started turning...especially as it was Danny's paper. I started writing immediately, got quite a bit of it done, but completing my thesis got in the way (a thesis is the ultimate form of contraception). So they were kinda "stuck" in position for several months. After the thesis was delivered it took a while to get back in the swing and iron out the kinks, and I had a bad case of performance anxiety. Didn't help that both parties were glaring at me. But it's now done!  
> THANKS: To my three wonderful editors, Christine, Kat and Siobhan. For picking up all sorts of mistakes, teaching me and your wonderful encouragement. And a big thank you to my best friend Rae, for pointers and demanding your daily dose of smut.  
> Written 2001.

The press cubbyholes at the back of the briefing room were all but deserted. Only the muted click of keys and occasional rustle of papers prevented the silence from taking over completely.

He preferred to work at this time of night. He found the atmosphere conducive to the thought processes, without the interruptions of briefings, editors and phone calls.

In defiance, the aforementioned device sprang to life. Only one person could be calling.

"Yes, Mom. I'll be going home in a minute. I know I should be out enjoying myself on a Friday night, but it's been a busy week and I'm just going to go to bed." It was a long standing script, fashioned after many a Friday night call.

There was a pause at the other end, before a husky voice inquired, "Would you like a bedtime story before you do?"

He could feel the warmth of his embarrassment, as he replied in his best monotone, "This is Daniel Concannon's answering service. He is not available to come to the phone at this moment. If you are not the woman who gave him life after a twenty-two hour labour, please call back during business hours."

A throaty laugh reverberated down the line. There was no mistaking to whom it belonged. He closed his eyes and hit his head against the window beside him. He was relieved there was no one to witness his boiled lobster impersonation.

"Hello, CJ."

"Hello, Daniel. Twenty-two hours, hey?"

"I had a big head." He'd already made a fool of himself, why not compound it.

"Well, some things never change."

"What's up, CJ?" He heard a strangled cough. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she spluttered. "You got some time to come by my office?"

"What for?"

"An exclusive."

"At ten p.m. on take out the trash day?"

"This is an exclusive you won't want to miss." Her voice was enticing.

"Okay. I'm coming." He paused. "What was that you just said?"

"Nothing."

"I could have sworn I heard you say, 'Oh, you will be.'"

"Just your imagination."

"Okay." He started to tidy up his desk. "Be there in five."

"Bring your notebook."

He placed the receiver in its cradle, his brain already rewinding through the week's events. Nothing earth shattering enough to require a follow-up at this time of night and, until a moment ago, he had done nothing particularly idiotic. He grabbed a notebook and pencil and headed off through the empty corridors, treading over shadows fighting for floor space with light from the occasional occupied office.

He entered Carol's office to find the door to his destination closed and all the blinds drawn.

Pursing his lips, he stopped. Was she having a little fun at his expense?

"CJ?" he called as he rapped on the door.

A muffled voice answered. "That you, Danny?"

"Me and my trusty notebook."

"Both of you get in here."

"What's going on, CJ?" he asked as he opened the door and stepped in. A cursory scan of the room revealed CJ sitting at her desk, hidden behind a newspaper. The only illumination came from her desk lamp.

"Close and lock the door."

He complied, but was starting to get annoyed. "Look, CJ. It's been a long week, I want to go home. I'm not in the mood for games. What the hell is the exclusive?" He was standing directly in front of the desk, but still couldn't see her over the paper.

"Me." Her husky tone sent a shiver down his spine, as she lowered the Washington Post at an excruciating pace, slowly revealing naked arms and shoulders.

He emitted a disappointed whimper as she halted above the swell of her breasts. He quickly leant across the desk, but she was quicker, flopping the top of the paper against her bare skin.

"Did you know you have a drooling problem, Mr. Concannon?"

He snapped his mouth shut and raised his head slightly. She moved forward on the chair till their faces were inches apart. Her glasses had slid part way down her nose; she wouldn't be able to push them back up without shifting her cover. He smiled at the thought, but decided to help. He placed his finger on the tip of her nose and slowly stroked it upwards. Her eyelids fluttered closed, a soft sigh fanning his face. He moved closer, lightly kissing her nose and down to her lips. Her mouth opened and her tongue flicked out in anticipation, moistening the skin. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, before nipping her tongue and pulling away. Her eyes shot open in surprise as he grinned. Two could play at this game.

"You couldn't have used, I don't know, Time?" he queried, raising his eyebrows.

"But Time would have left very little to the imagination and I know how you like utilising your imagination." Her gaze slid down his body, as a secret smile worked her lips. "Anyway, I was saving it for you."

In her best spider come hither to the fly voice, she purred, "How about coming around to this side of the desk."

This fly was a goner the moment he walked in the room. But it didn't mean he couldn't tease his captor. "And why would I want to do that?" He sat down on the chair in front of her desk and pretended to settle in.

She fixed him with her death glare, known to send many a reporter into a hasty withdrawal. "You're getting back at me for all those times I said no, aren't you?"

He just smiled. He had her positioned between a rock and a...well, she'd be there soon enough. If she wanted to move things along, she'd have to give up her cover and approach him, which would mean handing over control. This was developing into a good old Mexican sit-off. Who would break first? He was in an infinitely better situation being fully clothed. But she was naked behind that paper and those eyes staring at him...down boy. No harm in making her wait.

"Pay back's a bitch." He shrugged.

"Fine," she hissed through clenched teeth. "I'll go back to reading my paper."

"My column?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Freak Boy."

Watching her became too excruciating, his imagination out of control. He looked around the room trying to reestablish it. Door...pinning her against it. Couch...infinite possibilities and positions. Back to the desk...her sprawled across it. Their eyes met across the top of the paper. Think of somewhere else. Press room...her briefing on the latest appropriations bill...dressed in nothing but those glasses and a smile. Making out on the stage, in his seat, back in his cubicle on his desk... Okay, this was not working. Just hold out a little longer. His silent frustrated sigh was given voice by the other occupant of the room.

The paper was back in place against her chest. "Danny. I'm not moving from here. If you do not get your ass and your equipment on this side of the desk, I'll be forced to take matters into my own hands." She paused and rolled her eyes as she recognised the double entendre.

"I'd like to see that." He smirked.

Steely determination swept over her features. He felt a light brush against his ankle and glanced down to see scarlet toenails encased in a matching strappy heel. Her foot began its torturous journey up his inner leg, each inch revealing more of her skin. His breath became rapid and he closed his eyes in an attempt to rein it in, but it only allowed him to focus on his growing arousal. His eyes sprang open as she arrived at his thigh. He watched her self-satisfied smile as she shifted down in the seat to reach her destination. A quiver coursed through his body as the heel brushed across his groin. Their eyes were locked in a sensuous dance. He grabbed the heel and stroked his hand from the tips of her toes, up her foot and over the graceful turn of her ankle. She upped the ante, applying pressure to the gas pedal. He yelped into action.

"Okay. I give in."

She withdrew as he stood and practically pole-vaulted the desk. She spun the chair to face him, revealing legs stretching from the floor to his by-line. He could spend a lifetime traversing and exploring every inch of those miles. His gaze swept up to meet hers.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Ms. Cregg?" he asked in his best Hoffman voice.

She slowly licked her lips. "Oh, I'm not trying."

"Where would you like me to start?"

"How about the bottom of the page and work your way up."

He reached for the bottom of the Post, but was stopped by a sharp response. He looked up to see her shaking her head.

"Not that page."

He pointed to her feet and she nodded her assent.

"Okay." He knelt next to her legs and placed his hands on her ankles. "But I'm going to be at the other page very soon."

She watched his every movement intently. "I won't be complaining."

"You want to read me that bedtime story?" He kissed the inside of both her ankles.

"What would you like? Travel, film, the Middle East, the Dow Jones?"

"My column?" He smiled against her skin as her laughter swept over him.

"Narcissistic, much?"

He ran his hands up her left leg. "Can we stop talking in questions?" He looked up to see that gorgeous smile.

"Obviously not."

"Just read, woman." He tickled her instep.

"Okay, man. But you need to stop doing that first."

"Spoil sport." He shifted his hands to her right leg and stroked upwards. "That better?"

"Much." The paper rustled into position. "'Riders Need To Be Reined In' by Daniel Concannon. Clever title, you are good with words."

"I'm even better with my mouth." He kissed and tasted her calves.

She continued. "'The attachment of riders to bills has become standard operating procedure in government. A land-use rider allowing strip-mining in Montana attached to a banking bill...'"

This was good. All of his senses were focused on this woman. The chiseled line of her legs, which would make the finest artisan envious. The smooth velvet of her skin under his fingers and the slight salty tang on his tongue. A hint of jasmine mixed with the unmistakable scent of arousal teased his nostrils. And as for those dulcet tones...aural sex was terribly underrated.

He gently parted her knees, running a finger down the inside of both. She shivered as her breath caught on his words. He kissed both sides before returning to his journey. He fought to contain his own arousal; he wanted to bring her to the edge first. He'd come later.

Increasing the pressure, he stroked his hands part way up her thighs and then back to her knees. He repeated the motion, this time traveling a little further before returning. Once again, forth and back. On the fourth stroke, CJ complained.

"Would you get there already," she growled.

He smiled innocently. "And exactly where would that be?" He started the upstroke slowly, goosebumps forming beneath his touch, pausing just past the place of his last u-turn.

"Don't you dare, Danny."

"Dare what?" He stared at her as his hands moved back towards her knees. "This?" Her eyes pleaded with him. "Or this?" Reversing his direction, he quickly slipped his hands up and under the paper. His left hand squeezed the top of her inner right thigh, while his right arrived at its destination. He lightly brushed across her, eliciting a whimper. Their gazes were still meshed. "Am I there?"

"In the area. Now, get to work." She moved against his hand to gain some friction.

He stilled her hips. "Whoa, girl. Slow down. Let me handle this." He gently rolled her clit between his fingers. "How about some more of that story?"

"You expect me to read while you're doing that?" she asked, as she shifted to allow him better access.

He kept a straight face as his hands continued their activity. "I thought women were experts at multi-tasking." His fingers circled her, before trailing to her opening and back.

"I'm not reading. But if you want to multi-task, get your mouth up here," she ordered.

He slowly rose, removing her glasses and bringing his left hand up to the back of her head, his right never losing contact with its target.

"Yes, ma'am."

He lightly kissed her lips, his fingers in turn feathering her. As the kisses increased in pressure, so did his touches.

She sought to hurry him, trying to part his lips and rubbing against his hand. His thumb stimulated her clit, while his fingers stroked. She pushed her pelvis upwards on his down stroke, his index finger slipping inside. At the same moment she entered his mouth.

He wondered whether she'd fenced, as their tongues thrust and parried. He inserted another finger inside her, the rhythm matching the dance of their mouths. Their pace increased, as she made soft mewling noises and her muscles clenched around his fingers. He couldn't concentrate, he needed to stop this before he lost total control.

Withdrawing from her, he heard a disappointed sigh. He rested his forehead against hers, their ragged breath slowing.

"You're a tease," she pouted. "I was nearly there."

He pulled back so he could see her, his hand remaining to stroke her face. Every inch of visible skin was flushed, a fine sheen of sweat reflecting the lamp light, making her shine. Her hair was tousled and her eyes drowsy with arousal. She couldn't look anymore beautiful if she were encased in the finest Armani gown.

"I want to be inside you the first time," he stated. He leant forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips. She rubbed her nose against his.

"For a reporter, you're not very observant. You were inside me." A playful grin worked her lips. "But, in that case, you have far too many clothes on. Stand up."

He moved back and stood, his knees a little creaky from their previous position. "I like forceful women. What next, mistress?"

"Suspenders."

He slowly detached them, watching as her eyes drifted down his body. With a quick swivel of his hips, he flung them over his shoulder, colliding with the blind, which in turn hit the window. He turned to ascertain nothing was broken, before looking back at her, more than slightly mortified.

Her laughter burst over him. "Danny, please try not to destroy my office."

He shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor. In an embarrassed tone, he said, "Well that was certainly a deflating experience."

"Don't worry," she purred. "I have a secret plan for inflation. The shirt next."

He started to loosen his tie.

"No. Leave the tie on."

He smiled as he remembered. "You going to be doing some grabbing and pulling? Because there's something else you could grab and pull." He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Amazing how she managed to look innocent and wicked at the same time. He watched as she licked her lips. "I do have two hands."

"That you do." He was relieved as a familiar stirring returned. "I like this plan."

"The shirt, Danny."

"Right." He unbuttoned the cuffs, followed by those down the front. He could feel her gaze on him, making him nervous and causing him to fumble several times. Pulling the collar out from under the tie, he pulled the shirt off and threw it at her, landing on her head. Still keeping the paper in place to his disappointment, she raised one hand to remove it and put it on her desk.

"Shoes. Leave the socks."

"Kinky." He bent down and untied them. He had a great view of her legs from this angle. Returning to a standing position, he awaited further instructions.

"Pants."

He paused. "This isn't where you steal my clothes and shove me out the door in my underwear?"

"How could you think that?" Her eyes were large and dismayed. "I'd at least wait till you were naked. Now, lose the pants."

"Okay." He undid the button and lowered the zipper, letting the pants fall to the ground. The slide of material combined with her caressing eyes raised goosebumps and other things. He stepped one foot out and used the other to flick the pants back onto the couch. At least he got that right.

"Nice move. But, Danny. Pink boxers?" she chuckled.

"You're really intent on bringing me down, aren't you. For your information, they were cream. There was a bit of a mix up with the laundry. If I'd known you were going to take advantage of me, I would have worn my neon green briefs with the four-leaf clovers." He took a few steps toward her. "You've had your fun. Now it's my turn. Stand up." He gestured with his hands.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not losing any more items of clothing until I've perused the back page. Come on."

She arched an eyebrow and smirked, before slowly rising from the chair. With those heels, she had a couple of more inches than normal on him.

"You going to start at the top of the page?" she queried.

He tilted his head slightly. "I don't think I can reach the very top. Might have to settle for part way down. Turn around." He traced a circular motion with his finger.

Still clutching the Post against the front of her body, she slowly pirouetted anticlockwise. The lamp light rose across a plain of flesh, revealing the landscape in all its glory.

If he'd been a cartoon character, his eyeballs would have bulged out and his chin hit the floor. He swallowed several times, trying to rehydrate his throat and mouth. He'd always thought of her as a work of art, but this vista, inviting him to explore...

Her voice broke him out of his stunned state. "See anything you like?"

He stepped towards her, reaching out to trace a finger down the length of her spine. She shivered under his touch. He moved closer until his body moulded against hers. He shifted his mouth to her left earlobe, lightly suckling and nipping, before placing a kiss below it on her neck. His lips journeyed across the back of her neck, as his hands massaged her shoulders and slowly slipped down her back to her waist. His hands descended further to squeeze her backside, as her right ear received identical treatment to its partner.

"I like it all," he whispered in her ear.

"I can tell," she replied in a husky tone, pushing back into his erection, which was resting against the top of her thigh.

He groaned. "Can we hurry this along?"

She pulled away from him, the loss of contact bringing a whimper to his lips. Turning to face him, she separated the outer sheet of the paper from the rest and extended her arm to drop it to the side. She attempted to effect an expression of wide-eyed innocence, but the glint and arousal in her eyes shone through.

He crossed his arms and grinned. "Hello, Gypsy Rose."

With a flourish, she repeated the motion, alternating between hands until there was only one sheet left.

"May I perform the unveiling?" he asked, as he stepped towards her.

She dropped it immediately. "Ooops!"

His gaze followed the paper's descent. "Wow," he managed to splutter. He felt a pressure around his neck as she grabbed his tie and pulled him against her. Their arms naturally encircled each other.

"Don't worry. There'll be other duties for you to perform," she whispered against his lips.

"Really?" His hands roamed across her back, making certain no square inch was left untouched. Her hands worked their way under his t-shirt and copied the pattern. "And what would they be?"

She ran her tongue along his bottom lip and her hands lowered to cup his backside, pulling his groin into contact with hers. "I'm sure you can feel your way," she growled, before plundering his mouth.

The sensations were exquisite, the taste and feel of her. He'd dreamt about this often enough, but if these early stages were any indication, his imagination was sorely lacking. He felt her hands shift to remove his undershirt. He pulled away with sudden embarrassment.

Her brow wrinkled with confusion. "Danny?"

He was so self-conscious he found it difficult to look at her. He grimaced as he searched for the words. "I-I'm not twenty anymore. And print journalists aren't exactly known for their active lifestyles."

Her hand slipped under his chin and tilted his head up so their eyes met. He wasn't sure what to make of her expression.

She bestowed a small smile on him. "And here I thought I'd be the worried one. I'm not twenty either."

"But you are so amazing." He showcased her with his hands.

"I was gawky at twenty. The boys liked small, petite girls. Which was in no way me. It took a long time for me to grow into this body. Suffice to say, I'm more comfortable in it now, than when I was twenty."

He recognised the pain in her eyes from the resurfaced memories. He moved his hands to either side of her face and brought her lips to his. "You matured to a full-bodied fine wine."

"Or a mouldy cheese," she laughed. She placed her hands on his chest and circled his nipples through the cloth. "I've felt you against me and you've got nothing to worry about. I want you, not some twenty year old. Now, could I please remove your shirt? I'm getting cold over here."

His gaze immediately dropped to her breasts.

"Eyes up here, Mister."

He complied, but a grin belied the severity of her tone. He returned the grin and raised his arms above his head. She ran her hands down his chest to the bottom of the t-shirt and lifted it. The shirt snagged on his tie as she pulled it over his head. He made a grab for the tie and pulled it out of the way.

"Careful, CJ. That wouldn't be a good headline," he mumbled through the material.

Her face reappeared as she threw the shirt over his shoulder in the direction of the couch. "And what headline would that be?"

He held up his tie. "'Reporter found dead of autoerotic asphyxiation in West Wing'."

"I don't know." She trailed her hands over his chest. "Might help reinforce my reputation. 'Press Secretary Kills Lover During Mating'. No one would dare cross me."

He shivered as her fingers swirled around his nipples. Her self-satisfied smile convinced him of the need to regain some control. He reached out and lightly stroked her breasts. She gasped and quickened her motion. He matched her.

With a quirked eyebrow, he asked, "Could you at least wait until after the mating?"

"In that case, we'd better get a move on. Because I'm starving."

With no warning, she slipped her right hand down his chest and under the waistband of his boxers. His knees nearly buckled as she enfolded him. He leant forward to kiss her, but she released him and moved away. He pouted.

"Take them off." She pointed to his boxers.

He saluted her. "Yes, ma'am." He attempted to slow his breathing, but the slide of the material only increased his arousal. He quickly stepped out of them and kicked them away. Straightening up, he watched as she glided the few steps between them with the grace of a panther.

She captured his lips with hers, pulling their bodies together. The feel of skin on skin sent a charge through him. He'd wanted her for such a long time, almost from the first moment he'd set eyes on her. Originally he thought it was just an old-fashioned case of lust. But then he got to know her, both as a professional and a person.

She stopped kissing him and pulled away slightly. He was about to complain when she grabbed his tie with her left hand and his erection with her right, proceeding to pull him towards her office chair.

"I told you I had two hands," she purred.

With what was undoubtedly a stupid grin on his face, he managed to gasp, "And they're very talented."

She turned him and backed him up until the chair hit the back of his legs, forcing him to sit down as she released him. He noticed a soft towel under him and something not quite right.

"CJ, is this your chair?"

"Yes."

He looked up at her with a quizzical expression. "It seems different somehow. Something's missing."

She placed her hands on his shoulders and straddled him. "Me?"

He groaned as she lowered herself onto his lap, his arousal pressed between their stomachs. Encircling her with his arms, he traced languid patterns over her lower back and cheeks. "You could be it," he whispered as their mouths joined once more under the force of mutual gravitation.

Their kiss reached a frenetic pitch, as he ran his hands over her hips and down her thighs. A sudden flash of memory made him disentangle their lips and ask, "Doesn't your chair have arms?"

She leant her forehead against his, pausing to regain her breath. "I'm too old to be a contortionist. Amazing how handy a screwdriver can be."

"You're a regular Girl Scout." He swallowed. "But please don't say screw when you're sitting on me like this."

"Screw," she drew out in a husky tone, throwing her head back.

He took the opportunity to stroke her throat. She clasped his shoulders and leant back, inviting him to descend. He trailed kisses down her throat and chest into the valley, before ascending her left mound. He felt her breathing become increasingly ragged as his tongue swirled around her nipple and his lips formed a suction cap. Finishing with a nip, he turned his attention to her other breast.

"Danny," she sighed, grinding herself against his groin.

He groaned against her breast before releasing it with one last suckle. "So, we're going to fail abstinence together?" He grinned and raised his eyebrows. "You don't suppose that after a certain period, our virginity is restored?"

"As long as the Hymen Fairy hasn't paid me a visit," she replied with a deadpan expression.

He let one hand drop to finger her clit. "I think I would have taken care of that earlier."

She answered with a moan and started kissing and sucking his neck. He turned his head towards her desk to allow her better access. An object in his line of vision threw a bucket of cold water over his enthusiasm. His hand between her legs stilled and he felt himself soften.

"What's wrong, Danny?"

He could hear the confusion in her voice.

"She's watching us."

"Who's watching us?" She leant her cheek against his to match his angle. "Gail?"

"Yeah," he responded in an embarrassed whisper.

She tilted back and looked at him with wide eyes. "She's a goldfish!"

His face crinkled in humiliation. "I know, but she's watching us and her mouth is gaping."

"I assure you, she does the same thing when I'm composing the press briefings. It's really been too long if a fish throws you."

"She's like our child. And unless you want to pay for therapy for her and me..." He glanced at the bowl for a second, before quickly turning away. Not that the expression on CJ's face was anymore comforting.

She raised her eyebrows. "You're serious?"

They both looked down at his lap. She wriggled closer as she stroked him and huskily whispered, "Screw."

They waited. Nothing. While not yet at the basement, the elevator was still traveling in the wrong direction.

"Okay," she sighed in defeat. "I'll move her. But I think you need to see a professional about this problem. It's a little crushing to the ego to be upstaged by a goldfish."

"I'm sorry." He cupped her face. "I've just thought about this for so long, I'm nervous. You are the most sexy and beautiful woman I've ever known. And I want to make love with you more than anything."

"But the fish freaks you out."

He grimaced. "There is that."

She shook her head. "You're lucky I want you." She gave him one last kiss before standing.

He felt sudden bereavement at the loss of skin contact and her comforting weight on his thighs. He watched as she walked around to the front of the desk and picked up Gail's bowl.

"Come on, Gail. Your daddy," she pointed the bowl in his direction, "that weird naked man --"

"Hey! Those are not uplifting words, CJ."

"Would you let me finish explaining things to our fish." She glared at him.

He grinned back. "You said 'our'."

"Shut up, Nimrod."

"You know, 'Nimrod' is actually a beautiful piece of classical music by Elgar."

She stilled. "Now you're freaking me out. No trivia, otherwise I'm going to start having nightmares about Presidential sex scandals." She turned her attention back to Gail. "As I was saying, your daddy can't perform with an audience. Which probably explains why he's a print journalist."

He was about to interrupt again to defend his honour, but the look she gave him convinced him to keep his mouth shut.

She continued, "But your mother has certain needs, which I'll explain to you when you're older." She paused, biting her lip. "First turkeys, now I'm talking to fish."

"I'm sure we can squeeze onto the therapist's couch together," he offered, letting his eyes wander over the exposed skin.

"I'd rather be squeezing somewhere else. Any movement on that front?"

They both looked at the subject in question.

With a relieved sigh, Danny smiled. "The recession has bottomed out and we're booming again."

"Okay, Gail. Shelf now. Before he finds something else to distract him."

She strode to the bookshelf and Danny turned the chair to follow her with his gaze. He studied every one of her countless inches, as she placed Gail on one of the shelves.

"Oh, I'm already distracted," he said flippantly.

She glanced at him over her shoulder with a dismayed expression. "What now?"

"There's this gorgeous back page I'm reinvestigating," he teased.

The transition to a smile was a treasure to behold. Her face lit up and she ducked her head in sudden self-consciousness.

"What are you teaching her?" he queried, as she picked up a book and opened it, placing it in front of the fishbowl.

"I have no idea, but it's not sex education. So you have nothing to worry your little head about." She made certain the bowl was entirely hidden from his sight.

"Big head, remember," he corrected.

"Oh, I remember."

Her voice was the best aphrodisiac available. Combined with the magnificent body and the sparkling woman within, it was no wonder he'd fallen so hard for her. And he was finally going to be with her. He shifted on the chair in anticipation.

"You ready for the full front page?"

He completed one final survey of the back. "More than ready."

She slowly turned, revealing a view he would never tire of. He saw her grin and bite her lip as she examined her effect on his groin.

Wanting to draw out the foreplay for just a little while longer, he asked, "How about a performance of the Jackal?"

"Danny," she growled in warning.

"You all hot and bothered?" It was taking a great deal of control to stop his innocent face from breaking into a smile.

She put her hands on her hips, the stance doing wonderful things to her shape. "I was hot and bothered when I called you. I am now so past aroused, I don't think they have a term for it."

He tried to help out. "Horny?"

"Doesn't even begin to cover it. In fact, if you're not satisfying me in the next few minutes, I will walk out that door and grab the first person I find." She raised her left hand from her hip and pointed in the threatened direction.

"Person?"

She sighed dramatically. "As long as they can do something, I don't care what they are. Now, are you up to the task?" She tilted her head and looked questioningly at him.

He answered with a smile and held his hands out to her, palm side up. He studied the way her body moved as she approached him, her grace and poise breathtaking. She lightly brushed his palms with her fingertips, sparking a chain reaction of tingles coursing through his body. Her palms slid across his, slick with nervous perspiration, dragging back until their fingers touched and automatically curled around each other. He pulled her down onto his lap and into immediate contact with his lips.

The kiss was strangely innocent and reverent. More reminiscent of childhood sweethearts, than the highly aroused and passionate adults they were. They slowly deepened it, her arms winding around his neck and his around her waist. He was lost in the feel of her under his hands, on his skin, in his mouth. He tried to ignore them but the signals became more insistent, disrupting his contentment.

Without breaking contact with her mouth, he breathed, "You ready?"

"More than ready. The road warnings went out a while ago."

"Road warnings?" He pulled back to look at her.

She laughed and stroked his cheek. "There isn't much blood left up here, is there? Slippery when wet."

"Ah. Gotcha." He smiled and recaptured her lips.

"That you have."

She moved her hands to rest on his shoulders, breaking the kissing as she rose to position herself. His hands shifted to her hips to guide her onto him. Bracing against his shoulders, she lowered herself until the tip of his erection touched her. He let his grip support her weight, allowing her to set the pace. His respiratory rate increased in anticipation, the smile on her face causing him to harden even more.

They gasped in unison as he entered her, her muscles stretching to accommodate him. She slowly rose and descended several times, each movement arousing them further.

He couldn't keep his gaze off her face. He felt guilty at her initial grimace, followed by rapid relief as long unused muscles remembered their purpose, her expression changing to pleasure. He smiled as she lowered herself once more to sit on his lap.

"Comfortable?"

She answered with a wicked grin. "Quite."

She moved her left hand down to squeeze between the back of the chair and his tailbone. He shifted slightly to allow her room. Her right hand wound around the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers. He placed his hands in identical positions on her body as their lips met once more. They began to slowly rock together.

At this angle his penetration was shallow, with his head constantly pushing her folds apart and the occasional brush of her clit against him. It was slow, intimate and incredibly arousing, much like their relationship.

Their kisses gradually increased in passion and speed, with CJ rocking her hips in unison. She began pushing at the base of his spine with her hand, urging him to intensify the friction. He warily increased the pressure he was exerting on her back.

She broke their lip lock in frustration. "Danny, I need some help here."

"Sorry. I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, hoping she'd understand that as much as he wanted her, he didn't want to cause her any discomfit.

She pulled back to look at him. "That's really sweet, Danny, but it's not doing much for me. Are you going to get a move on," she removed her left hand from his back and towards the phone, "or do I have to call to see whether Larry and Ed are still --"

He grabbed her wayward hand and cut off her words with his mouth. Hands entwined, recalling their first kiss in this room. She shifted, signalling her intent. He was ready when she thrust towards him, the increase in friction making her groan in pleasure against his lips.

"That better?"

She grinned against him. "Much."

"You will let me know?" He needed to make sure she understood.

Rocking forward, she gasped, "Would you quit worrying. You'll know."

He joined the chorus line of pleasure. "You'll hit me."

"Yeah."

"Which one?" He traced circles over her back, goosebumps forming under his fingers.

"What?" Her confusion didn't interrupt the path of her lips from his mouth, across his cheek and down the side of his neck.

"Which head will you hit me in?" He smiled as he tasted her collar bone.

She straightened back up to face him and ran a finger down his cheek. With a no-nonsense expression, she replied in an authoritative tone, "You keep both of them where they belong and you won't have to find out. Now, shut up and kiss me, and..." She moved her hand to the back of his head again, pulling their faces together. Her voice dropped to a toe-curling level, as she exhaled the word into his open mouth, "...screw."

He cast aside his worries and quickly matched her rhythm. Their still entwined hands gripped tighter, a slightly awkward proposition with only one hand each to bring their bodies together, but a reminder of their first tentative steps towards intimacy. Their pace increased as her fingers curled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He kneaded the base of her spine and backside.

She suddenly altered her angle of thrust, pushing down and grinding against him. It took him a moment to figure it out. He disentangled their hands, drawing a disappointed whimper from her as she separated their lips and leant back. He gently shushed her, shifting her slightly as he moved his hand between their bodies. Her eyes widened in understanding, and she grinned and bit her lip as his fingers came into contact with her clit.

It wasn't the most comfortable position for his arm, twisted and jammed between two moving objects, but her responses more than made up for it. She wound her arms around his neck to gain leverage, as his fingertips played with her clit and folds. She thrust forward to intensify the friction, he teased her by lightening his touch.

"Danny," she warned in a tone mixed with annoyance and desire.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows in mock innocence.

She glared at him, sending his heart rate soaring. "You know what."

"I actually have no idea." He tweaked her clit, sending a shudder through her body. He allowed himself a small grin as she closed her eyes, quickly removing it as she returned to her glaring. "In fact, 'No Idea' is my middle name."

"Wouldn't that be middle names?"

"They're hyphenated."

A giggle escaped as she shook her head. "Should have known making love with you would be weird."

He had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat at her choice of words. "But immensely satisfying."

"Well, I have yet to collate the evidence supporting that assertion." She ducked forward to kiss his nose, before pulling back and bestowing a look on him that said 'prove it'.

He was surprised to find she'd given over control, allowing him to guide her. He turned the pace up a notch, studying her face and noting her movements. He wanted to draw her out as long as possible, though it was getting increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. Her tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, moistening her lips, sighs and whimpers caressing his ears. He discovered a particularly sensitive angle of attack on her clit, causing her to gasp and thrust into his hand. Her muscles clenched around him, forcing a strangled groan from his lips. He'd intended to hold off and bring her over the edge first, but his body didn't want to wait.

She grinned, guessing his quandary, and shifted her body to a position allowing her to increase their speed without his fingers losing contact with her clit. He continued to stroke and circle her, as she slid back and forth along him. Her fingers dug into his back, their movements growing frantic. He couldn't stop watching her face, flushed with arousal and exertion. An exquisite blend of torture, need and pleasure illuminated her eyes and shaped her mouth. He continued the tango over her, felt her responses around and against him, the contractions heightening his own pleasure, her rapid breath and excited whimpers and groans matching his own.

He pulled her pelvis towards him, increasing his pressure on her clit. She arched her head and neck back, her body tensing, indicating she was close. And he wasn't far behind. She stilled for a moment before pulling back and straightening to look at him. Her smile reflected back his own as she reached for his lips once more. Their utterances and breath mingled, increasing in urgency, in time with the movement of their bodies. A shudder began to course through her body, she separated their lips, leaning her forehead against his as she rode the wave and pushed against him. He concentrated on her clit, her folds pulsating under his touch, her muscles in spasm around him. The waves grew in amplitude and frequency, he heard her draw in a ragged breath and hold it as she was swamped by the final movement. She clamped tightly around him, bringing him to and over the edge, only seconds behind her.

They breathed again at the same moment, a sigh of relief for consummation after several years of foreplay. Their lips once again sought each other out, soft and languid, his hand releasing the final tension in her body. They remained joined as he gently stroked her back and she played with the damp curls clinging to the nape of his neck. Their heads moved to rest on the other's shoulder, tongues and lips nuzzling necks.

"Did you collect the evidence you needed?" he whispered, moving his hand to her hair.

She shifted slightly to a more relaxed position against him, shivering at the vibration of his lips against her skin. "Most of it. But I think more experiments are needed to confirm the findings."

He could feel her smile. "That would be how many more experiments?"

"I'll let you know." Her right hand ran down his chest. "But I'd suggest changing your message."

"This is Daniel Concannon's answering service. He is not available to come to the phone at this moment as the White House Press Secretary is taking advantage of him. If this is his mother, don't worry, he is enjoying himself."

She laughed, a sound he could never grow tired of. "So, I'm taking advantage of you, am I?"

"Oh, yeah. You're a wanton woman." He ran his fingertips down her spine. "I don't know about great in bed, but you're magnificent in a chair."

She circled his nipple. "I'd prove the great in bed tonight, but I need to be able to walk tomorrow."

He allowed himself a self-satisfied grin. "I'm sure you'd also be great on the desk, and on the couch, great up against the door and on the floor."

"Hello, Doctor Suess." She shifted until she could face him, winding her arms around his neck again.

He pulled her closer, still within her, his hands on her back. "A slightly X-rated version." They fell back into long, passionate kisses, only stopping to refill their lungs. "CJ?"

"Mmmm?" She rubbed her nose against his.

He paused and bit his lip, before regaining his confidence. "Why?"

She rewarded him with a sated smile. "Because."

"Okay," he managed to whisper as she reclaimed his mouth. And it was, just because.


End file.
